Life After Death
by ohxmyxria
Summary: Companion piece to Life and Death: Twilight Reimagined - follows the end of the book. Charlie prepares for his son's funeral and finds solace not in the acceptance of Beau's death, but in what could have been Beau's life. A letter with a promise shows Charlie a hint at a future he will never get to see. Light piece, some fluff. R/R for more.


_Author's note: Thanks for letting me write this nugget - it was stuck in my head as soon as I finished Life and Death: Twilight Reimagined and I knew I had to jot it out. Just a light piece as a companion to the book - Charlie deserved some closure. Please enjoy!_

 _I do not own Twilight/Life and Death nor claim to be Stephanie Meyer._

Rain pelted the windows of the Forks Police station creating a cacophony that echoed inside the nearly empty room. Peals of thunder shook the panels of the roof and lighting made shadows dance across the inner walls, but the display was lost on Charlie Swan.

He sat at his desk like he did fifty hours plus every week, but he was not working mindfully like he usually did. Instead, he was staring at the papers that were scattered across his desk, papers that had sat there the entire week through. He couldn't bring himself to look through them but didn't have the strength yet to push them out of sight either. The papers were all different sorts, some from newspapers, others were school files, but the one that sat on top of the pile depicted simple but elegant font reminding him of the horrors that were to come in just a few short hours. For these very different papers all centered around the same horrible fact: Beaufort, his son and only child, was dead and nothing in the world could change that.

For not the first time that day a lump swelled up in his throat and a deep sob ripped through him. His few colleagues that came in this morning under the pretext of finishing up work did their best to ignore their chief's unusual display of emotion but the total silence in which they worked only highlighted the occasion. No one had seen Charlie Swan so inconsolable before, not even those who knew him when his ex wife had left several years ago - then he had somehow held it together in the public eye at least. But then, nothing could quite shatter a man like the loss of a child who had barely begun his life. Especially when that man was convinced his child left this world wishing he had never known him.

For what else could Charlie think as he mulled over his last conversation with said son? A conversation in which Beau had declared in no uncertain words that he hated the town Charlie lived in and wished he had never come to live with him. Sure, part of that was speaking out of heartache, but Charlie knew his son well enough to know that Beau did not embellish - those had been his true feelings, feelings Charlie had always suspected though Beau had never voiced them. He had been trying to survive in Forks despite hating it there because he wanted to do the right thing by both his parents. And finally that hate had proved too much and he fled in the night, in a beat up old truck that his father had bought him, and died.

Charlie wished he had never bought him the stupid truck; he knew it was a piece of junk, but he never thought it would play a role in taking his son away from him forever. Or maybe if he had tried harder to change Beau's mind about leaving in the first place, he never would have been on the road all night and been in that accident; it was unclear exactly what happened caused the crash, but Charlie had no doubt that exhaustion had played a role in it. Or maybe still this could have all been avoided if Charlie had been a better father to Beau growing up, had showed his son that he could be there for him; maybe if Beau thought he could rely on his father more he wouldn't have felt the need to run back to his old home and his old life when dealing with a crisis.

In so many ways, Charlie felt he had failed Beau and directly caused this outcome. And it broke him. And now today he was expected to watch them bury the remains of the son he had let down in front of the whole town, beside his own long gone parents. The whole notion seemed ridiculous. And heartbreaking. And so beyond anything he could handle.

What he wanted was to escape this entire nightmare, to wake up in a world were his son - who looked so much like him that he felt like he was looking in a mirror sometimes - was teasing him for his love of fishing or scolding him for leaving his work shoes in the middle of the living room again.

When Beau had asked him to come stay in Forks for a while Charlie had been pleasantly surprised but also nervous. He didn't know how he would balance the patterns of his own life with taking care of his long neglected son. But his fears had been groundless. Beau was self sufficient - actually, more than that, he had taken it upon himself to care after Charlie too, feeding him and making sure he picked up after himself. Living with Beau had been so easy he had forgotten what it felt like to come home to an empty house. But all at once and far too suddenly, that was his reality again.

Charlie blinked back a fresh veil of tears and willed himself strength from a source he had long since stopped believing in, even before it took his son. He just wanted to make it through the day, make it through for the grieving wife of his child, and then quietly collapse upon himself at home with a too stocked fridge of beer.

Charlie was too deeply enthralled in his own misery to hear the door of the station creek open, though every other head immediately raised and stared in rapt attention. A small face with golden auburn hair plastered to it from the rain peeked in. Her face was hauntingly beautiful though there was something obviously solemn in her expression. Hesitantly, Edythe Cullen pressed into the room, passing through the rows of desks and ignoring the heads that turned to follow her progress until she found her way to the Chief's. He looked up fractionally when her lithe footsteps ended abruptly in front of his desk, doing a double take when he realized who she was.

He had met Edythe Cullen only twice, once when Beau introduced her as his girlfriend and the second time at the identification of his remains. Both times he found her uncomfortably beautiful, like those models in the adds, but there was also something about her he could only find... Off. She was polite, too polite actually, and held herself with such grace and poise, traits you didn't see in teenagers. But there was also something unsettling about her, something he couldn't put his finger on.

As he looked at her now, though, he all but forgot that she made him nervous. In her large ocher eyes trained downwards, he saw a deep sadness that made him ache to put his arms around her and share his own heartache. He knew his pain was different than that of a girl who lost a boy she had just started dating, but somehow he knew she suffered just as much with this loss. She held what looked like a letter in her hands and couldn't seem to pull her eyes away from the papers strewn across the desk, eyeing Beau's school picture with such a forlorn expression Charlie finally found the strength to close the file. As it flipped close she finally lifted her face to meet his eyes. She looked paler than he remembered, her hair flattened by the rain, making her look drawn while the dark spots under her eyes implied nights as sleepless as his own.

Charlie cleared his throat, unable to help but me overwhelmed with emotion, confronted by her youth, knowing she would have a future that Beau would never get a chance at. She would grow up, graduate, love someone else and then would she even remember the boy her family played baseball with? Edythe shifted uncomfortably, as if knowing she was being studied. The way she held herself told him she was fighting the urge to run away from this place. Did it make her think of Beau? Did she see him everywhere, too, picture his face reacting to some trivial thing or else abruptly turning red when faced with embarrassment? He couldn't help but to think so; his son always thought of himself as average from his toes to the crown of his head, but Charlie knew better and he liked to think Edythe saw that special something too and fell for him because of it.

She would remember Beau, Charlie decided suddenly, unable to forget the look on her face as she stared at Beau's picture; after all, he hadn't forgotten Renee in all these years even if hurting over her had considerably faded in the background as the years went by. Charlie beckoned Edythe to the chair beside his desk, wordlessly asking her to sit, which she did gracefully.

When she did not immediately explain her presence Charlie took to fill the growing silence, aware of their audience a few desks down. "Edythe. What can I do for you?"

She didn't speak right away, as if looking for the right words. "Charlie... I wanted to tell you in person that I won't be there today."

They both knew what she was talking about. For his part, Charlie was not surprised; if not for his obligations as Beau's father, he wouldn't have stepped foot in the cemetery either. Everyone said funerals were for saying goodbyes but Charlie knew he would not find solace in Reverend Webber's eulogy if for no other reason than it would be impersonal. This town did not know Beau, didn't know how to mourn him properly after meeting him only months prior. Charlie barely knew how to mourn his son properly, but knew at least that this was not how he would have wanted it. Charlie would go through the motions, though, shake the hands and take their condolences, but it was for everyone else's sake.

Charlie nodded his head in a motion so quick it might have been missed, but Edythe saw it, letting her shoulders drop as if a great weight had fallen away. She lifted the letter she held slowly, placing it on the desk over the now closed file. He lifted it curiously, wondering if it was her eulogy and praying it wasn't - if there was one thing Charlie Swan was not going to do, it was read to a crowd of his neighbors his son's girlfriend's teary goodbye, no matter how pretty she was.

Edythe smiled a tiny bit, just one corner of her mouth raising up. But the expression quickly disappeared. "This was in my mailbox," she explained. "I've read it already but thought you should too. It's from Beau."

Charlie looked up as she choked out his name, then quickly dropped his eyes back to the letter in front of him. Curiosity was the first thing he felt, followed then by a resonating sadness mingled with unease. He could remember all too well Beau's last words to him; what could he have said to the girl he had just broken up with? When Beau had come home that night so clearly on edge and admitted he had just broken up with this beautiful girl, Charlie thought he was out of his mind. What was going on through his head?

He felt like this letter might tell him, but at the same time knew it was not for his eyes. Charlie started to push the letter back to its intended, but Edythe put her hand over his, stopping him. He froze, not just from the sudden contact, but from how cold her skin was. Had she stood in the rain long before coming into the station?

"Please," she said so quietly he could barely hear her. "I think you need to read it too, to understand. I know you have to have a lot of questions about why he... He left that night. This might help." She pulled her hand away then, standing in one fluid motion. A regretful expression passed over her face, her eyebrows pulling close. "I... I have to leave now." She crossed back the way she came but turned at the door to face him once more. "And Charlie? I'm sorry. I really am."

Charlie couldn't be sure if she was apologizing for missing the funeral or for something more and she was gone before he could think to ask, her rain coat flapping sharply as she braved the storm. As the door shut out the sound of the harsh winds, the sudden gust scattered the papers from his desk. In reflex, he shot his hand out, catching Edythe's letter before it took off with the rest. It was on folded notebook paper, and Charlie could picture Beau parking his truck in front of the Cullen home on the outskirts of town after he dashed out of the house that night - hastily ripping a sheet from one of his school binders and jotting this note up against the glass before taking off into the night with no idea how his journey would end.

Part of Charlie wanted to toss the letter out, unwilling to see with his own eyes his son's final message to the girl he was leaving behind. He had no clue what he was going to do to her, leaving like he did that night. Beau has no idea what he did to his mother either, or even Charlie himself. What could seeing these words do for him? What made Edythe feel so strongly that she would go out in this weather to hand deliver it when she couldn't even face Beau's closed coffin? With a sigh, Charlie unfolded the paper, hunching over his desk as he absorbed the scribbled handwriting he recognized from notes on the fridge.

 _"Edythe,"_ it read, _"first, I'm sorry. Really sorry. But I don't think I can do this - any of this. The future you talked about scares me. Not because I don't want it, but because I think I really do. The whole graduating together, getting into the same college, even the marriage-"_ Charlie startled as he read the word _"- and starting a family part. It sounds so good it makes me dizzy. But it's too good, Edythe. It's the plan my mom had figured out with my dad, Charlie, and it sounded great on paper but it fell apart."_

Charlie paused, knowing that part all too well. Renee had been so beautiful and so eager to make all these plans with him, promising she could learn to love small town life, smiling as she painted a room for Beau with a blue paint that matched her eyes. He didn't even notice as the glow started to leave those eyes, didn't see as her smiles became more forced. Or maybe he hadn't wanted to see.

 _"It wasn't either of their faults,"_ the letter continued. _"It just didn't work out. But it broke something in my dad especially. Even now I can see it in the little things he does, how he never changed the house they decorated together, how he works long hours as if he still is afraid of coming home to no one. And I'm too much like him, Edythe."_ Here the scribbling got more frantic like Beau had to force the words out. _"I can see my future if this doesn't work out. I'm not saying this because I don't want to become my dad, I'm saying this because I know I'm not strong enough to survive the way he did. I couldn't keep going after this fell through and I was stuck there where you left me, watching you leave like my mom did. I can only appreciate the strength it took Charlie now after knowing you, Edythe, and loving you."_

Again, this startled Charlie. Hadn't that been their first date? Or had Beau been seeing Edythe for a while before that night? He knew that meeting the parents had been a big step, hinting towards a relationship that was farther along, but he hadn't suspected before that they had gotten deep enough in to be talking about love and marriage.

The picture was starting to fill in a bit more for Charlie, helping him understand what drove Beau out of Forks; the type of commitments these two had been talking about were very large for a couple of 17 year olds. It all sounded good in the heat of the moment - that Charlie knew from experience, as did his son as a product of the reality that turned out to be a lot heavier then they had imagined. But they had kept at it until their picturesque future had gone up in smoke.

Charlie couldn't blame his son for seeing the writing on the wall and getting spooked, but he wished he could have talked him through this and helped by providing what his son might not have seen. Did Beau know about the late nights that turned to early morning when he and Renee would whisper affectionate words as they stared into each other's eyes? Or about the exciting but terrifying feeling of coming home each day to his wife's wild dinners? What about the first time Charlie felt Beau kick and it brought tears to his eyes knowing how bright their future looked?

He knew it was partially his fault for never sharing the good with his son, only letting Beau see with his perspective eyes how much it hurt his father driving the love of his life away. It made him wistful, wondering what would have happened if he could have done it right.

He went back to the letter with a heavy feeling in his chest. _"And because I've realized how devastating it would be to lose you. So I'm leaving first. I need distance. I need to figure out if I'm really ready to go down this road, knowing there is no way back. And maybe I'll realize I'm making the biggest mistake of my life and I'll come crawling back, begging you and Charlie to forgave me for doing this in the first place. And I'll let you call me an idiot and a coward then, Edythe, but for right now I have to go so I can figure that out for myself. So hold onto this for me until then. Sorry. Beau."_

Charlie breathed in deeply, expelling slowly towards the ceiling as he tried to wrap his head around the letter.

Beau had been planning to come back, hopefully. Charlie hadn't known that, but this made it clear. But what had he asked Edythe to hold on to? She hadn't stayed around to explain it, so Charlie could only assume it was something personal, but knowing he had left her a token to remember him by spoke volumes about his intentions over his actions. He wasn't running away like Beau thought he was - he was looking for a reason to come back, he just didn't know it yet.

But now Charlie did. And even though Beau would never be able to make good on his promise, it helped Charlie understand why Beau had been so harsh to him that night and said the words that pierced him just as deeply as when Beau's mother said them before him. He had been trying to work out his feelings for Edythe among his fears of a future that sounded too close to that of his now divorced parents. He had lashed out and taken off but deep down he had planned on fixing it.

Charlie ducked his head low over the letter, wondering what Edythe had felt as she read this. Did it help her, knowing Beau loved her, at least? Or did it make her feel guilty, like she had chased him away. He frowned, knowing too well what that felt like - but his sons words had helped ease the sting. For the first time in what felt like forever, Charlie could fill his lungs without feeling pinched.

This pain, the pain of losing his son, would never fully go away, but at least now he had perspective enough to know he couldn't allow it to eat him up inside; it was the loss of Beau's mother that turned Charlie into the kind of man that had inspired that fear of loss in his son. Now it was time for him to learn from his failure as a father and pick up the pieces of his life. It was time to show the strength Beau thought he had possessed.

Charlie thought about Edythe again, wondering if there was something he could do for her in memory of his son. He wanted to go after her now and convince her to come to the funeral; it wasn't going to help Charlie but maybe it could help her. But he looked at the clock on the wall and knew there was no time.

The three officers in the station were watching Charlie and had been since Edythe had left, no doubt wondering what the youngest Cullen could have wanted with the Chief, but too concerned with his wellbeing to pry today. Instead they began to scuffle towards the door, letting Charlie know it was time for the service. So he too stood and let them lead him silently to the cruiser. His desire to skip out on the funeral was forgotten in the face of his other responsibility - to pick up Renee and her husband.

Strength, he chanted silently to himself. Lord give me strength.

The line for receiving condolences seemed unending. Despite himself, Charlie had weeped openly at the service. It was not for the impersonal speeches of classmates or even his own recalling of his first memories of newborn Beau, but for Renee's video montage of the time between Beau's yearly visits to Forks. So many memories Charlie never got to share with Beau, so many smiles he had missed out on.

Becoming so emotional had exhausted him in ways he could not imagine. And now he was to shake every hand that passed by him and promise to accept their mourning dishes with his eyes visibly red.

Thankfully the line was winding up. Bonnie Black was being wheeled away by her daughter, Julie, who looked as if all the world had come to an end. He couldn't remember her being very close to Beau, but could only imagine from her side that it felt like losing one of her brothers. He looked past them to see who was bringing up the end of the line and was shocked to see the remainder of the Cullen family finishing up with Renee and Phil. He had assumed they would stay home with Edythe who was noticeably absent, but maybe they thought to give her space to grieve.

Carine reached Charlie first, gripping his hands with impressive strength. Her eyes were profoundly sad, so much so that it distracted him out of the usual tongue tied interaction he had with her.

"Thank you for coming," he said with as much purpose as he could manage.

"Of course," she responded quietly. Earnest was beside her, his arm around her comfortingly. "A young life lost is truly a tragedy."

"You have our condolences," her husband added, his mouth sorrowful. "If you ever need anything please reach out to us, Chief. Truly." As he spoke their four adopted children gathered around, each shaking Charlie's hand swiftly.

The last in the line, Archie, lingered in his hand shake however, clasping both his hands around Charlie's. Like his sister's, Archie's hands were like ice and Charlie resisted the urge to shudder. "How are you holding up, Chief Swan?"

Charlie sighed, feeling heavy down to his soul, though a bit lighter in the presence of the beautiful Cullen family. "I don't know yet," he answered honestly. "How is your sister? She came to see me earlier about not being here."

"She has been overwhelmed," Archie admitted, a sad smile on his face. "I trust she told you about the letter?"

Charlie nodded, feeling like overwhelmed was an understatement. "You take care of her. It's what Beau would have wanted."

"You're right." His eyebrows raised suddenly. "Oh, I just realized - did you want it back? I don't know how you feel about Edythe holding on to it, after all."

"Uh, sorry?"

"Well the ring of course," he stated matter of factly. "The one Beau left for her. In the letter?"

"A ring?" Charlie looked blankly at the young man with the buzzed hair cut. "What ring? What do you mean?" Something clicked together for him in that instance. The token Beau had left for Edythe was a ring? What did that mean? Charlie felt as if the answer was right in front of him but he couldn't grasp it.

The blonde girl, Jessamine, put her hand on Archie's back as if in warning, but Archie continued on as if he had expected Charlie's reaction. "Beau put it in the letter to my sister, for her to hold onto. She's been wearing it since this morning but I wondered if you might want it back. It looked older." He tilted his head to the side as if he was thinking about it. "It was a silver band but with a blue gem and some white ones surrounding it."

"The rings," he gasped suddenly, the image very clear in his head. It was one of two rings his mother had worn her whole life, given to her from Charlie's father as an engagement ring with the wedding ring soon to follow. His mother had never been a dressy woman and those rings were the only jewels she had ever worn so he remembered them as clearly as her warm brown eyes.

The rings had been left in Charlie's care to hand down to Beau but Charlie couldn't handle the emotional aspect of it. He had just left the rings on Beau's dresser one night the year before when he visited for the summer and told him simply that the rings were his mother's. If Beau had understood the significance of the rings, he hadn't shown it. They hadn't talked about the rings since then and he had all but forgotten having passed them along. "He- he gave them to Edythe?"

"Them?" Archie shrugged his shoulders. "She only has one, I'm pretty sure. Why? Are they important?" Something about his tone told Charlie he already knew they were.

Earnest, who had been seeing to Renee who had been overcome with another bout of crying, turned to Charlie then. "We shouldn't eat up so much of your time, Chief. And we should be back soon to see to Edythe." He reached out for Charlie's hand then as his wife rounded up their family and began leading them away after a meaningful look back at the two clasped men. "Take care, please."

Charlie was still too in shock to do more than weakly return Earnest's platitude with his own, his mind still racing with this new information.

Hours later, when Charlie was finally able to shake off his trance and return home, he found himself turning into Beau's room instead of his own.

He had been avoiding this room since receiving the news of his death, knowing Renee would want to pack up his things after the funeral. He stepped into the threshold hesitantly, not sure what brought him here now.

It was only when a glimmer of light refracted through the window and caught on something on the dresser that he realized what he had been seeking. Charlie closed his hands around the ring greedily, the cool metal as familiar as the back of his hand. He brought it to his lips, kissing it gently, his mind already set on uniting the two rings.

He found the Cullen house with some difficultly; it was heavily obscured by foliage and he would have missed the turn off if he hadn't called Earnest before hand and gotten directions. For his part, the father of the mysterious family had not seemed surprised by the call and had graciously invited Charlie over, warming the Chief with his encouraging words. Charlie had wasted no time, calling Renee to let her know he was stepping out for a bit and would pick her up shortly with boxes for Beau's things.

Charlie couldn't help but be a little awed despite his trepidation upon pulling up to the home - this was not the type of home you'd see in Forks typically. But then, the Cullen's weren't exactly a run-of-the-mill family.

Earnest and Carine were waiting at the entrance of the home to greet him. Charlie didn't see any signs of the children but could feel their eyes on him through the windows as he stepped out of his vehicle.

Earnest pulled Charlie into another enthusiastic hand shake and Carine surprised (and embarrassed) him by kissing him on the cheek.

Charlie cleared his throat loudly, feeling his face get hot. "Sorry to stop by like this so suddenly."

"Not at all," Carine said welcomingly.

Earnest gave Charlie a warm smile. "I did say to come by whenever, Chief. Shall we go inside?"

Charlie shook his head. "I've actually got to get going soon. To pick up Renee to pack up, um, pack Beau's stuff up." He cleared his throat again. "But I wanted to bring something over, something I found as I started going though his things. Is Edythe here?"

Carine nodded, and ducked into the house to call her. In what seemed like no time at all. Edythe herself materialized in the doorframe. She still looked ill but now wore a black dress that Charlie knew instantly was for the funeral she couldn't bring herself to attend. Her thin arms were wrapped around her, shielding her for the cold seemingly, though Charlie suspected the posture was more to hold herself together than anything.

And though it was the last thing he thought he would be doing today, the day his son was being buried in the earth, he felt a small smile in his face as he looked at her. Edythe looked at him uncertainly, but he waved her forward. Earnest stepped back to join his wife at the door, giving the two a little privacy.

Charlie reached into his jacket pocket and presented a ring unceremoniously. He lay his palm flat so she could inspect it, could see how it matched the ring he now noticed on her left hand. This ring had the gems in reverse color order and with more detail around the band. Inside was an inscription Charlie had memorized as he played with the rings as a child - "Always & forever -Beau" - a love note his mother had carried with her everyday of her life from his husband, Beau's namesake. His mother used to say that when she was angry with her husband all she had to do was twist this ring around her finger a few times to have the message remind her why she loved him. Charlie hoped the same would hold true for Edythe.

"This is yours," he said simply, reaching out for her tiny hand to place it in.

Edythe looked over to her parents, then up to the house before accepting the ring. Her eyes were large as she read the inscription. When Edythe looked up at Charlie he could see the question on the tip of her tongue.

Charlie squeezed her hand in both of his. "It's what he would have wanted."

Edythe appeared to be overcome in that moment, her shoulders shook and she suddenly looked so small and fragile. "I would have made him happy," she promised thickly. "Please know that, Charlie."

Of that Charlie had no doubts. If nothing else, he trusted his son. Beau knew what it meant the second he put the ring in the envelope, and so did Charlie. His intent couldn't have been clearer if he had written it in the sky. "I would have been proud to call you my daughter."

Edythe hiccuped, emotion clear on her face. She bound up quickly, kissing Charlie on the same cheek Carine had. And then she took the second ring and slid it on with the first one.

The two together looked impressive and Charlie was flooded with memory as the two reunited on Edythe's slender finger. He couldn't help but to think they looked perfect on her, and suddenly he knew that this was what he could do to honor his son correctly - he could care for the girl who in another life would have been his daughter in law. He could picture it so clearly his eyes burned with unshed tears: Beau in a tuxedo looking just as nervous as he himself had been almost two decades ago, his face lighting up when Edythe gracefully made her way to his side in a beautiful dress as elegant and grand as her home, him sliding the ring on her finger and promising to honor the vows engraved inside...

The real Edythe stood before him looking just as radiant as he knew she would have marrying his son, her smile only slightly sorrowful. "I will keep these rings safe," she promised, almost shyly. "And I will love him everyday for the rest of my life."

A single tear dripped down his cheek before he could wipe his eyes. "Thank you." And that was all he could manage as he hugged her once before stumbling back to his car and driving back to his home, ready now to say goodbye, finally feeling just a hint of peace.

Edythe could hardly wait until the cruiser was out of sight to dash back into the house, finding herself in Beau's arms almost instantly. His eyes were still glued to the window, however, watching after the vehicle that was now long gone. But he kissed the top of her head and breathed in her scent until it washed away the longing that had filled his heart as soon as his father had stepped into view of their home. This was as close to a goodbye he could ever have with Charlie and though it had turned out exactly how he hoped, he was still left wanting more. But he supposed that feeling would fade with time.

"Thank you," Edythe breathed into Beau's chest. "I didn't know what to expect with all this - I thought it was just for Charlie - but this! Thank you, Beau." She tilted her head back and she stood on her tip toes, kissing him passionately.

A cough from just behind them deflated the kiss momentarily. Archie held his hands out, palms up, expressing his indignity. "And where is my thank you, sis? Who do you think orchestrated this?"

She bristled. "You orchestrated nothing. All you had to do was find the first ring and set up Charlie to find the second."

Archie was right next to them now, ignoring all personal space boundaries. "I'll have you know Beau came directly to me for help with this, including what he needed to say in the letter to set this in motion so I am definitely an orchestrator. There were other ways this could have ended where Charlie didn't get closure - and neither did you, Edy." Archie looked awfully proud of himself. "This way helped the maximum amount of people: Charlie got some peace about losing Beau, Beau got to know he helped his dad, and you got to let go of some of that guilt you had about this whole thing."

"And now I don't have to deal with the constant self loathing," Jessamine added, appearing at the bottom of the stairs. "And the relief is very much appreciated."

Archie grinned wider. "Another satisfied customer!"

Jessamine rolled her eyes but was still smiling. "Correct. But now you need to come with me and stop bragging." She nodded her head towards Edythe and Beau who were still blissfully wrapped together, more or less ignoring Archie. "Learn to read a room, will you? Beau's father just basically blessed the marriage - let them have some privacy." She was gone an instant later, already heading into the forest.

Archie beamed towards the twosome once more before following.

"Are you okay?" Edythe had to ask now that they were finally alone; after she had reentered the house, Carine and Earnest had had the good sense to go for a stroll.

Beau shrugged around her, pulling her in tighter. He knew this was all he could do for Charlie, to let him know how much Edythe meant to him posthumously and hope that that would be enough to comfort him. That, and have Bonnie Black looking after him as she promised. It didn't feel like enough, though; Renee at least had Phil to help her pick up the pieces. And besides, if Archie was right, like he usually was, she would soon realize that while she had lost one child another was already growing inside her. That would be some comfort. Beau hoped that she would let Phil name this one, though.

And of course a lot of this had been for Edythe, not just to help with her lingering guilt in having taken Beau away from people who loved him, but also to help her realize the depth of his feelings for her. She hadn't known the significance of the ring he presented her with only an hour ago, thinking perhaps it was a ring borrowed from Carine to stand in for a real engagement ring following their tree top vows during the funeral. When instead this had been a plan Beau and Archie had been setting up for a few days. Beau wasn't supposed to propose to her in the tree, that hadn't been part of the plan though Archie saw it was a possibility, but it had worked out for the best since she was already wearing the ring when Charlie showed up to present her with the second.

Royal had weighted in on the plan once to ask why Beau didn't simply give her both rings to which Archie replied that Royal didn't have a romantic bone in his body. But Archie actually knew that it was less about the romance aspect and more about Edythe knowing that Charlie wanted her to be happy with Beau and would have be beyond thrilled to see them married, though he never could. Having Beau's father's approval was just one of the small, old fashioned ideas Edythe had about the way the world should work. This was also why Beau made sure to pull Earnest aside earlier in the day to make sure he had earned her pseudo father's blessing - which of course Earnest was only too happy to give. Beau wanted to show Edythe that he would do any and everything in his power to make her happy, and he felt he had succeeded.

And now she finally knew how much she meant to him, something he wished he could show her for the longest time. She was worth all this. She was his always & forever, like his grandmother had been for the original Beau. Somehow, he had always known that his grandmother's rings were meant for Edythe, maybe since he first meet her. Maybe that was why he had taken the rings out of storage where they had sat since Charlie gave them to him last year, hiding them in his sock drawer only weeks ago, a few days before the baseball game that had changed everything.

Edythe kissed along his jaw, a quiet almost purring sound emitting from her chest. Beau let himself spend five more seconds mourning Charlie before letting himself be distracted by his fiancée's lips. He could not do anymore on that front. All he could do for Charlie's sake now was be as happy and as in love as Charlie had wanted him to be. And so he vowed that would be exactly what he did for every second of forever.


End file.
